


The Fiddler Fell Off The Roof

by MadameMorganLeFay



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-03-18 10:14:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3565886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameMorganLeFay/pseuds/MadameMorganLeFay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Honestly, Brian Kinney was the most infuriating man Jennifer Taylor had ever met. It didn't help that he was madly in love with her son. Or that her son had found love with Ethan Gold- new and improved better than Brian's ads. But all that glitters is not gold. </p><p>Set during Season Three.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jennifer Taylor Sees Too Much

** PART ONE: JENNIFER TAYLOR SEES TOO MUCH **

* * *

Several months later, Jennifer Taylor asked herself: _“Why didn’t I see it all before?”_

But by then it was too late.

Ironically, she prided herself on being perceptive- or so she liked to think. She knew if her next door neighbour felt under the weather, or if a client left home in a foul mood. She sensed rain hours beforehand and could detect the faint blush on Molly’s cheeks that whispered _“I’m lying to you, Mom!”_ Yet all her mental prowess failed when Justin crossed paths with the eternal bane of her life, Brian Kinney.

Still, since their dramatic split, Justin had finally found a normal boyfriend- in his age range, for a start- and her blood pressure returned to healthy levels. In fact, she felt they complimented each other; the Artist and Violinist sounded far more compatible than the Artist and Ad Exec who was minted. Oh- and also twelve years his senior... That whole set-up reeked of disaster from the word go. In his latest choice, Justin showed he’d outgrown that.    

So far, so good.

Justin declared himself in love to anyone who would listen, and she believed him- who wouldn’t be attracted to Ethan’s affections, the perfect antidote to Brian’s icy draught? Even in her company, a moment rarely passed when the couple didn’t smile, hold hands or kiss, and she watched Justin soak up the attention as though making up for lost time.

Ethan impressed her. He didn’t speak to make a scene, or drop witty references just to sound superior to others. If asked, she’d describe him as _“charming”,_ but not enough to make her vomit. On a normal day, she might never have noticed him shuffling through the street with his faithful violin; he could have been anyone’s boyfriend. She could relate to the idea of him; a typical student, always pissed off about rent, assignments and stingy professors- no different from Justin. And security lay within similarity, something Ethan provided. 

Quite unlike Brian Kinney.

Carefree types annoyed her. Life needed order, rules, expectations, but Brian cared for none. Worse, instead of judging him, little things he said or did made her reconsider, thinking of her own free spirit. She never realized how tedious white, heteronormative suburbia could be before she met Brian, and started to envy his liberationist ideas- even whilst openly deploring them.

Not that she lied, though. Rumour had it he slept with around twenty-nine men a month; around one new ass a day! Were there enough men in Pittsburgh to satisfy Brian’s lust? Soon, he’d need to move state…

She hated knowing Justin formed part of that _“list”_ \- how degrading! Yet compared to exchanging gossip with vapid neighbours and constantly living up to an ideal, Brian’s life sounded like a breath of fresh air. If she’d been able to set her own rules from the beginning, she’d never have married Craig in the first place- in fact, divorce brought her the unexpected gift of freedom, instead of financial ruin. She found herself empathizing with Brian’s fierce independence and contempt for marriage, even if she told herself to disagree.

It was a complex relationship; in the end, she grew to enjoy disliking him, regardless. After all, she still remembered storming into his office and demanding Justin stay with the moron who’d seduced him. That had to come from the heart.

But seeing him for real made things easier. One day, she found herself commenting on his skinniness, and suggesting to Justin that he eat more. Where did that concern come from? Brian had this unique way of sucking her in, just like everyone else to the point that she’d overlook his _“extracurricular activities”_ and give him a chance.

She didn’t bother comparing both men too much, because they lived worlds apart; Brian breathed fire and ice, capturing and breaking hearts, but Ethan stayed Zen, his love static, never fluctuating. No doubt Ethan won by miles... but Brian remained an enigma. Even when criticizing him, she’d rush to clarify it was nothing personal…

_“…Not that I have anything against Brian; if it weren’t for him, I don’t know what I’d have done…”_

Justin, on the other hand, had taken to censoring any mention of Brian from his life, from no longer smoking weed to choosing a Madonna CD over Jimi Hendrix. He wanted everyone to believe Brian had flitted through his life like a ghost, and _“everyone should just mind their own fucking business!”_ That always made Jennifer laugh; it was so typically Justin- defiant from his unruly hair to the sneakers she’d begged him to replace on several occasions. She didn’t see why such hostility was necessary- sure, she wouldn’t gloss over Brian’s considerable shortcomings, but he wasn’t a serial killer.

Whatever. Justin didn’t want to know. 

_“I’m with Ethan now.”_

* * *

Two years ago, if someone had predicted Justin would cheat on Brian Kinney, Jennifer would have died of laughter. Because back then, in _The Gospel according to Saint Justin_ , the sun shone out of Brian’s ass.

_In the beginning was The Word, and The Word was with Brian Kinney; and The Word was Brian Kinney…_

Too bad they never taught her _that_ in Sunday School! _“Brian this”_ and _“Brian that”_ till the cows came home and Jesus returned- probably to ask why Justin Taylor was fucking with his Holy Book. Daphne confided in her to say Justin had described Brian as _“the face of God”_ with a faraway look in his eyes. Jennifer was only glad she hadn’t been there, else she might have burst into a fit of giggles.

Naturally, her pleas for his safety fell on deaf ears- why should he listen when he knew the _absolute truth_?

Justin didn’t have to say he was in love; his dreamy smile screamed it from the mountain tops. She didn’t understand how he could transition from a reasonable son to Rebel With a Cause- at least in his opinion.

His insanity didn’t stop at tight clothing and pretending to stay round Daphne’s every night. No, once confident Craig posed no threat, Justin regaled her and Daphne with _every_ detail of Brian’s life any chance he got. Within a week, Jennifer learnt enough about him to pass an exam- from his disdain for politicians to his profligate spending habits to his deviated septum. Apparently Brian had sexy hands- who knew? Like her, he loved old Hollywood movies… although _she_ didn’t lip sync the words or, as Justin put it, have _“an unresolved sexual obsession with James Dean”._

Little by little, she built a vivid picture of his life without even seeing him; Justin, ever the artist, spared no details. She knew he’d spent lavishly on top of the range appliances for his kitchen, but couldn’t even boil an egg. That made her laugh. She knew he had regular Botox treatments, he didn’t cheat on his taxes- _bullshit_ \- and accidentally boiled his pet goldfish alive on a radiator.

_And he didn’t even get charged with manslaughter. Amazing._

Best of all, in The Gospel, Brian’s beauty transcended the sun, moon and stars.

_“You look at him, and you forget to breathe… He’s so captivating, its impossible to imagine being without him for even a day.”_

_“You’ve only known him for a month!”_

_“Love is many-layered and complex. Turn a corner, cross a street and there it is. Like in **“Titanic”** \- I mean, that only took two days!”_

_“That’s all they had to work with! You really need to start watching other films, sweetie… But speaking of sinking ships, isn’t it a little too soon to start naming your feelings as--”_

_“--I know what my feelings are! And I’m going to make him see them… somehow. You’ll see.”_

No one knew Justin’s determination better than her; Brian _had_ to be _his_ , and fuck anyone who dared stop him! Two years later, she still marvelled at how he’d done it; clearly there was more to him than proclamations of love and dreamy sketches. Once he wanted something, he grabbed it, and Brian clearly didn’t have enough willpower to resist Justin’s charm onslaught. By the time she learned Brian had visited Justin in hospital after the bashing, she knew he’d been broken.

She heard Debbie call him _“Sunshine”_ ; the name fit like a glove- because if she felt herself wilt when Justin smiled, then Brian most likely hadn’t stood a chance.

Unbelievable, but true.

* * *

Life with Ethan didn’t preclude the usual hiccups, but Justin didn’t seem ruffled, and Jennifer slept peacefully knowing reconciliation lay just around the corner. During The Brian Era, circa 2000- 2003, even a dismissive glance soured his mood for hours before he surrendered, throwing himself on Brian’s mercy.  She hated seeing him reduced to misery for something so trivial, and hearing the resignation in his tone as he shrugged off his hurt.

_“You shouldn’t have to feed off the crumbs Brian chances to throw in your direction; its not good for your self-esteem!”_

_“I’m not feeding off anything! And this is none of your business; he loves me! I know he does!”_

As if that excused his behaviour.

_“That’s not the point, Justin--”_

_“I don’t want to talk about it, Mom!”_

In some ways, she didn’t blame him; what with Craig flipping out over his son’s sexuality, and her cowardly decision to side with him, Justin seeking affection elsewhere was only natural. So according to his logic, Brian frequently resorted to vindictive measures as a means to an end, but if he, Justin could detect hints of deeper feelings behind such actions, then why complain?

 She didn’t agree, but when was the last time Justin let her opinion stand in his way?

Finally, she sighed with relief as he matured, slow and steady, watched him carve out his place by Brian’s side. She no longer kept up with the constant drama that rocked their lives, but assumed as he edged towards nineteen, he’d lost some of the neediness and grown up a little. In a strange way, Brian’s distant manner accelerated the coming of age process, regardless of his methods… but it was also their undoing.

When she saw Justin walk off with Ethan at the _“Rage”_ Party, she guessed it had something to do with Brian’s tricking. Evidently, he’d had enough, despite claiming he didn’t care. Brian’s aloofness must have reached a tipping point too- and she couldn’t argue there, either. Her son had always fit the sensitive type, wearing his heart on his sleeve. He didn’t know any other way of expression, and struggled to understand why people like Brian would not conform to what he considered _“normal”_.

Yes, they’d been doomed from the start.

 

* * *

Brian didn’t disappear, though.

Ever since Jennifer started popping into the Diner, it seemed she couldn’t see enough of him. He lived on sandwiches, so she soon learnt his schedule. He’d turn up, cranky as ever, order and disappear most days, but sometimes he sat down with Emmett and Ted to mock their relationship over a mug of coffee and newspaper.

Pretty rich coming from someone whose one and only relationship had been a half-baked disaster. But small things like hypocrisy probably didn’t bother him.

And who could ignore Brian Kinney?

Heads swivelled round when he entered the room, and didn’t he know it? What was his secret? It couldn’t be the way he dressed, yet there was something so casual and assured in his manner that made men flock to him like flies towards honey. She imagined he hogged the bathroom, obsessing over his looks, because even his nails looked better kept than hers. Just his blazer alone probably cost more than her entire wardrobe. And yet he seemed to flit through the real world, like his drooling fans bored him- but she knew from the hint of a smirk playing at his lips, that he revelled in the attention.

This was Brian Kinney.

Justin didn’t seem immune to the Kinney-Effect, either; she would often see him pause at work to stare, open-mouthed… only to frown and shake his head a second later. As though he couldn’t allow himself to admire Brian anymore, even though doing so clearly felt natural to him. She never knew whether to smile or not, watching his innocent confusion. The idea of being so intrinsically attracted to someone that acknowledging their presence became a necessity frightened even her- she still considered Justin too young to handle such passion.

It probably explained why- in the beginning, when wounds are still fresh- they avoided eye contact. If Justin was serving, Brian came armed with a newspaper to bury his face, whilst Justin clattered mugs and plates together with unnecessary force. She heard a certain reservation in their brief words to each other that hadn’t existed before, and if either of them slipped, she watched the other silently remind them to stay in character. A small cough, a shake of the head… nothing more. If Justin smiled too easily, she knew Brian would turn his head away, or if Brian made a joke, Justin would remain silent, even if she saw his lips twitch.

_Even apart, they remain so attuned to each other, words are no longer necessary._

But Jennifer could never figure out the gratuitous tips Brian left.

Who tipped their ex-boyfriend? When she’d split up with some motorcycle jerk in high school, the only money she’d have spent on him would be for a hired assassin- after all, he’d slept with one of her friends, and taped it. Sparks flew when she found it in his gym bag. She got detention for bursting his ear drums in the showdown outside their lockers. No one would have thought demure Jennifer Taylor capable of such anger, but few people knew _“I did some pretty… wild things!”_

Brian had very little reason to dispense his money like drinking water when Justin was the one who ditched him. So why?

 As usual, he made no sense whatsoever.

 

* * *

However, Jennifer also noticed Brian behaved much like a scorned woman over Ethan, often referring to him, in disdainful tones, as _“Fiddler on The Roof”_. She almost smiled, when one day he added, _“Hope he doesn’t fall off!”_ , even though Justin’s response was littered with four letter words. Gaining confidence, he started making a point of quizzing her son about his love life - _“How’s’ it going in La La Land?”-_ and always flinched when Justin insisted _“Great… not that it’s any of your fucking business…”_ \- as though the idea of Justin being satisfied with someone else caused him physical pain.

More likely, it wounded his ego.

Sometimes, Brian resorted to cruelty: _“You know a song that reminds me of you and The Fiddler? Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds…”_ Other times, he went straight for the jugular: _“So… did The Fiddler stick his bow up your ass last night?”_ – at which point she, as the mother, felt compelled to slap him. Justin delivered that blow verbally with even more colourful four letter words.

And on the rarest of occasions, Brian tried to act like normal human beings- but she felt it was just for comic effect: _“I’m glad you’ve found what you wanted.”_ Sounded pretty sweet for Brian, and that’s what aroused her suspicions…

However, Ethan’s reaction interested her more; she could have sworn that underneath his traditional hostility towards the ex, he used his relationship as a weapon, flaunting the gun under Brian’s nose every chance he got. It was the oldest trick in the book, a classic feature of the love triangle. She remembered trying it out in High School, with excellent results. Ethan seemed to understand the value of subtlety- and played his part well. Sometimes he’d _oh-so- casually_ remind Justin they had plans for the night when Brian was in earshot, or leaning over the counter for a  kiss whilst Brian ordered his morning coffee.

 _Ouch_.  

Brian either pretended not to see, or made some snarky comment in response, whilst his friends looked another way, all sad smiles.  Even Deb knew better than to offer her opinion. But Jennifer saw the way he pressed his lips together and huddled into his expensive clothes as though shielding himself from… _something_. She felt sure he only regretted the loss of his favourite toy- for although his and Justin’s relationship had been rooted in sexual attraction, there had been moments where she would have been fooled into thinking they actually enjoyed each other’s company outside of the bedroom.  

Not that she’d tell him.

Brian Kinney, jealous. Who would have known?

But she also felt there was more to him that met the eye; from various rumours, he spent long evenings drowned in sex, sex… and yet more sex. This time, she didn’t disapprove, but quietly felt sorry for him that he couldn’t express himself otherwise. Sex as a remedy worked like sugar- a pleasurable burst of energy, but blink and the thrill disappeared. How much more with a drooling stranger? She wondered whether he’d any hobbies, or whether he travelled much. He only seemed to exist around work, the clubs and his Loft. And… she could have sworn despite having friends, he didn’t fit in. His jokes about Emmett and Ted bordered on spiteful at times, and when they responded in kind, she wondered whether they even liked Brian. As far as she could see, the real friendship ran between Michael, Ted and Emmett- Brian just tagged along because of Michael.

Even then, that friendship dipped south from time to time; one day, she overheard Michael complaining that Brian kept dragging him to Babylon, much to Ben’s annoyance. So he was also a drain on relationships- maybe because he couldn’t sustain them, platonic or otherwise.

The only friendship he’d maintained was with Lindsay, and when watching him cradling Gus, Jennifer forgot _all_ his shortcomings. But Lindsay loved people and travel, whilst Brian retreated into his shell when thrown out of his comfort zone. And her partner Mel detested him.

So who did he really have?

Brian Kinney, desired by all in gay Pittsburgh, was lonely.

She could have figured out a link between his erratic behaviour and Justin right then- instead, she simply wondered over how deceptive glamourous lifestyles were. Money couldn’t buy happiness. He had a slick car, wore designer brands and probably tied his cash in investments that earned ridiculous amounts of  interest a second and yet… he’d no one to share his life with. Perhaps his shopping habit helped fill the void, helped compensate for true companionship. Justin had rejected him, so he craved a new toy; enter the Corvette.

What an empty existence.

Hadn’t his parents provided him with any sense of self-worth? His disdain for the nuclear family suggested his childhood was fraught with nightmares… perhaps from years of abuse.

She thought of her own home, filled with Molly’s laughter. Sure, Craig had left, found some other woman he’d probably been fucking behind her back- yet she didn’t care. Not when she had Justin, who smiled through any challenge, and Molly’s quirky intelligence. Sure, they’d been through the brother hates little sister hates older brother stage, yet she wouldn’t change a single thing about them.

That’s precisely what Brian needed. Real love, not adoration and endless sex. Ploughing into a six foot stranger in Babylon might feel good, but it wouldn’t keep him warm in the middle of the night. Neither would the trick get to see him at six in the morning, or argue over the channel changer, or devour Chinese on a Saturday night.

Justin had done all that.

Trouble was, she didn’t think Brian would allow anyone so close anymore; the snake had bitten him too hard.

* * *

Then, after months of darkness, the truth hit her.

She never failed to be amazed at how people, engrossed in their fast-paced lives, could miss such small, yet critical moments… like the minute a bud blossoms into a flower, or the sun succumbs to a horde of rain clouds… And on the aimless April morning she wandered into the Diner for a cup of coffee, she finally figured out Brian’s game- and asked herself _“Why didn’t I see it all before?”_

Perhaps only she saw her son counting his tips in a corner one morning, when Ethan strolled in, engrossed in sheet music. Apparently some major music competition was coming up, which demanded unparalleled genius from all participants.

Justin’s eyes lit up and they kissed. Not wanting to intrude, she averted her eyes… but found Brian standing in the aisle instead, coffee in hand.

Watching them.

No words could describe the conflict in Brian’s eyes- conflict and… _desolation_. Yes, that was the right word. The desolation of famines and floods. The emptiness that comes from knowing life holds no interest anymore, and _what on earth are you doing here_?

Jennifer saw a hollow man before her, shrunk into his blazer, a man suddenly insignificant compared to Justin’s new flame.  And there was utter incomprehension in Brian’s eyes, caught in a silent scream of _“How could you do this to me?”_.

But Justin, lost in Ethan’s arms and charms, did not answer. He didn’t even see.

After a moment or two, Brian pressed his lips together and gradually- _painfully_ \- lowered his eyes, knowing he’d no right to share their tender moment. Knowing he’d been excluded, rejected… thrown out to dry in the gutter.

What did he see? What did he _feel_?

Nobody would ever know, let alone perceptive Jennifer Taylor.

With his lips set into a bloodless line, Brian snuck a glance at the lovers again, only to snatch his gaze away, shuddering.

Just like that, Jennifer _knew._

How did she manage to evade the truth all this while? Hell, it was as obvious as day, night and everything in between! Why hadn’t she seen through Brian’s façade, flimsy as it was? Did her desire to have Justin experience a normal relationship trump any thought of Brian’s emotions, his… _humanity_? Everything fell into place from the tips that could have fed a city, to the constant jibes, to him always cropping up wherever Justin was…

Brian… God, _Brian_ of all the fucking oddballs in this world, actually… Impossible! And yet did his reaction lie? Had there been a hint of malice or spite in his eyes? No, only truth shone from his lifeless posture- a truth she had chalked down to sexual instinct, that seemed so appropriate for Brian Kinney. Even after the bashing, she still entertained doubts about his motivations, but now knew she’d merely felt resentful that he could look after Justin better than her.

Because that’s what Brian did- _cared_ for Justin, picked up the shattered fragments of his life and built something far more profound than existed before. Something Justin could live for and believe in. Brian never let Justin give up, bringing his impenetrable calm to soothe the storm, where she would have given over. His single-mindedness kept her son on track, made him smile and appreciate life. Even with the best will in the world, _she_ , even as his mother, couldn’t have healed him alone, because Justin had loved Brian for his off-putting honesty if anything else. An outsider like herself could mock or shake their heads in amusement, but perceptive Jennifer Taylor realized now- far too late- that Justin hadn’t been joking. He’d loved freely not because of youth or innocence, but because _he felt his love returned_ \- even if Brian shrouded as best he could.

Justin must have known he’d touched Brian’s heart enough… He just didn’t realize how much Brian had tried to do the same. The imperfections remained; their inability to connect through words, their constant disagreements and misjudged actions. She stood by their conclusion that they mixed as well as oil and water.

But love knew nothing of rationality. Scheming and plotting, she played men against each other and dragged them, kicking and screaming, to their doom. 

Incompatibility didn’t matter, not when love kept her victims distracted with sex. At least not until the boy became a man and demanded something superior.

Even then, Ethan couldn’t compare with the torment burning in Brian’s eyes- he only had to open his mouth and say _“I love you”_ , and the deal was sealed. Brian said, did nothing- yet that meant everything! She remembered seeing death in his eyes outside Justin’s hospital Ward, and his defenceless plea for her mercy: _“I care about him…”_. And she’d crushed him even though he’d bared part of himself out in the open- even though he’d all but admitted to loving her son. Brian lived and breathed all the emotions he fought to hide from the world, his love danced and sang. Ethan’s love simply poured from his lips; nothing, she finally admitted, could separate it from the loves of a thousand other men and women in the world.

And yet, her son- her beautiful son- wanted the obvious option.

Brian would never be able to tame himself into an Ethan replica, and his failure cost him more than gold.

And on that note, watching Brian’s Funeral March out of the Diner, Jennifer Taylor wished Justin had never left.

But of course, it was far too late for that.  

* * *

** TO BE CONTINUED... **


	2. The Danger of Knowledge Part I

Knowing too much was a curse.

It felt like someone had taken a free piggyback without permission, keeping your head and shoulders bowed till you crashed. And carrying someone else’s pain? Jennifer Taylor knew that crushed the soul, too. She’d no way of un-seeing Brian Kinney’s heartbroken expression anymore; it had come to epitomise everything he hid behind his signature look. No matter what he did, from laughing at someone’s downfall to making Gus giggle like the Joker from Batman, the shadows in his life wouldn’t disappear.

What amazed- or perhaps shocked her most- was his submission. The way he accepted rejection’s bitter taste as though he understood love and tenderness were not for him to enjoy. For a promiscuous man, he showed remarkable restraint, signing away his right to happiness at the expense of a lover. Each day since was spent concealing his pain in witty words and lying to escape the truth.

So over the next few days since the fateful revelation, she reminded herself that Brian Kinney was none of her business, and of all the disreputable acts that had earned him so much respect. _He smokes, he drinks, he fucks, he says anything he wants and thinks he’s God. He seduced my son then hung him out to dry. He mocks Ethan for no reason other than petty jealousy…_

All to no avail.

Had she chosen honesty over a cut and paste image of Brian Kinney, she’d have to remember all the mismatched pieces to his jigsaw, like the memory of him sitting on her porch teaching Justin how to throw again. A man who, on a sluggish afternoon, might have enjoyed a spell at the baths in the company of steam and willing men. Instead, he sat without wit or self-importance, encouraging Justin with gentle words: “ _Don’t think, just throw… That’s good, Sunshine… Now try again…”_

And for the millionth time, she cut herself short, remembering how she’d swooped down, killing the hope in his eyes. On that day, she broke him without remorse; on that day, she learned he had a heart. It showed in the way he ducked his head, the way he stared at his idle hands in search of an answer. And he never resisted, as though convinced of his inherent uselessness. How could someone so strong be so vulnerable?

Jennifer smiled bitterly, realizing she’d answered her own question.

* * *

However for Brian, the show must go on.

Excepting one case of the flu during which time Justin seemed distressed, he appeared at the Diner most days, still keen for a turkey sandwich (no mayo), coffee (no sugar), and a chance to mock Emmett and Ted. And of course, the regulars gawped at him, eager for a private meeting in Babylon’s back room… or an alleyway.

Yet they also continued to gossip. Jennifer noticed that regulars at the Diner acted friendlier towards Justin- before, they’d enjoyed whistling at him whilst he served, and trying to grab his butt. Nowadays, they complimented the same paintings of his they’d mocked before, and enquired after Ethan-  with his notorious ex-boyfriend within earshot.  

Glee, Jennifer realized, a week later. Liberty Avenue’s gay population danced on Brian Kinney’s grave. For them, Rome had fallen. The Temple of the Gods had been set ablaze. Like a peasant revolt from history, every dissenter had emerged from their hidey-holes, singing _“Ding Dong, the wicked witch is dead!”_ Everyone smiled more often, and found something funnier than before. Amongst the lustful gazes, Jennifer saw nudges, winks and giggles, and snide comments whispered behind Brian’s back.  

 _“How are the mighty fallen!!”_ tricks would say, _“Have you seen his face whenever Justin and the Fiddler kiss?”_

_“Devastated! Humiliated!”_

_“Oh, sweet vengeance!”_

_“So much for fuck ‘em and chuck ‘em!”_

Not a friend in sight. One of Brian’s quotes came to mind: _“fags can be awfully bitchy, Mrs Taylor”_ … She’d smiled at his cut throat honesty, but this was no laughing matter. _Once you tread on people’s toes, you’re done for._ Such animosity, such malice was inevitable, even if mixed with a healthy dose of sexual longing.

After all, she remembered many of Brian’s famous quips, from the _“still wish you could have me?”_ aimed at regular diners with stars in their eyes, to the _“one fuck only. Don’t like it- move state,”_ for the men who liked stroking his thighs as he passed. He said shitty things like: _“I’d rather fuck your sister,”_ and _“Seriously? You must be joking!”_ Some said he’d reduced many a fag to tears, although no one would admit to it.

“They don’t seem to like Brian very much, do they?” she asked her son one morning, in a casual tone.

Justin chewed his lips, hesitant to respond. “Well… he isn’t Jesus, Mom.”

 

* * *

 

“Don’t tell Michael, because he’ll bite my fucking head off, but Brian should’ve looked after Sunshine.”

Jennifer knew that when Debbie nodded her head, leaning forward and lowering her voice, she meant business. Her opinion was law. Yet afterwards, she would stand straight and shout, no matter how confidential the subject. No doubt the biggest fag hag of them all- as the clientele of Liberty Avenue’s Diner affectionately named her- loved the sound of her own voice too much to give anyone else privacy.

“I mean, how fucking hard can it be?” Debbie said, pinning obscene badges to her T-Shirt. “Tell him you love him! Just three words! But no, it was beneath his fucking dignity. Now, I love all my boys, but if I hear someone’s mistreating Sunshine, I’d be in jail for assault!”    

“I can imagine.”

“He needed to be _told_ \- hell, we _all_ do! If I had a guy who was hard as iron- except in the right places--” here, Debbie chuckled- “I’d be packing my bags before the relationship even fucking _started_!”

“Well… what if they can’t help being, as you say, hard as iron? What if it’s something they’ve been exposed to their whole life, and can’t think differently? Would that… would that necessarily mean they couldn’t fall in love?”

Debbie paused. “Trying to be objective, huh? Very well. I’ll tell you I took that boy in when he was fourteen and without going into too much detail… he had to grow up too quickly. And to grow up, he needed his shields- you know, like in Star Trek?” She smiled… and it was a mother’s smile. “Brian loved that movie. He always used to say to Michael- _“You can’t touch me, I’ve got the shields!”_ Because he felt invincible, once he hid his feelings.”

“Hey Deb!” someone shouted from behind them, “I asked for something hot five minutes ago- where is it?”

“He’s outside by the bins, snogging his new Violinist boyfriend!”

Everyone except the disgruntled customer laughed.

“I can’t imagine Brian as a teenager,” Jennifer said, after a pause.

“That’s because he doesn’t want you to. But I’ll tell you for free, he was skinny like you wouldn’t believe- skinny with a huge appetite- and a total geek. He used my kitchen for domestic experiments, the little fucker, and never missed an episode of Doctor Who. But he dreamed big, too. He kept saying he was going to be mega rich and move to New York. I think that’s what made Michael fall in love with him… And you didn’t hear that from me, or you’re a dead woman.”

Jennifer smiled. “But he’s still here… and not involved with Michael.”

“Yeah… sore spot for my son, the poor, deluded kid. Never stood a chance. Brian loves fucking around with people’s feelings. Turned my little boy into a wreck!” She blinked and sniffed. “No matter who Michael’s with, he always holds a candle in his heart, hoping- just _hoping_ …”

Sensing a tearful rant on the horizon, Jennifer changed tack. “--I suppose it wasn’t going to last with Justin then. But… I just don’t understand why he doesn’t even bother to… make amends, fix their relationship.”

“Heck! That ship was sinking faster than the Titanic! You expect Brian to fix anything? Hell, he was the fucking _iceberg_! Fucked the boy around from day one- but after Sunshine’s birthday, everything really started going to shit. All the tiny little cracks joined together till the whole wall came crashing down on both their sorry heads. Poor bastards. But Brian fucked up, big time. Bought the kid a hustler for his birthday, for Christ’s sakes--”

“A- _what_?!”

“—Then planned a holiday to Vermont, and bailed out at the last minute… Sunshine almost burst into flames, poor kid. No wonder he started looking elsewhere, and though I guess it’s a cruel day when your boyfriend is fucking someone else behind your back, well… Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“But… but…” Jennifer couldn’t process all this intelligence at once, any more than to conclude that Debbie had no faith in them, and held a grudge against Brian for not being in love with her son. Yet… could it really be so simple? After seeing Brian’s true nature, she felt sure Justin must have seen something inside to make him stay a while, perhaps a year or more. In between the cracks Debbie spoke of, surely there were hints of sunshine and rainbows? If so- and for the millionth time, she asked- why did Brian not defend himself?

However, Debbie simply shook her head, and repeated, _“Poor Sunshine… really loved him.”_

* * *

 

Perhaps Emmett and Ted’s appearance was a happy intrusion.

“Good, he’s not here- for once,” Emmett said, after peering around. “Sick of him and his petty jokes. Coffee to go, Deb.”

“Coming right up honey- and you boys need to stop bitching. It’s a nasty habit. Believe it or not, Brian is torn up inside, isn’t that right, Mrs Taylor?”

Jennifer nodded quickly, then turned away to hide a smile. Clearly, Debbie couldn’t decide whether to hate Brian or not. Criticism rolled off her tongue, yet she resigned herself to his complicated ways… all with a hint of tenderness. Was that it? Tenderness for Brian. Unbelievable, but true.

“I saw your son in the city the other day, Mrs Taylor,” Emmett said, “with that cute Fiddler guy- quite a catch, isn’t he?”

“Oh, he’s fucking adorable!” Debbie interrupted, hand over her chest. “Curly-haired men and violin players! Sweet mother of God, it’s enough to make a woman weep! So charming, such _manners_ \- like from the fucking Victorian times! Didn’t know guys like that still existed!”

“So in other words, Ethan is a leap forward for mankind,” Ted said, smirking. “As Shakespeare said, _“All’s well that ends well”_. And the moral of the story is: the philosophical principles of Kinneyism _don’t_ lead to Nirvana as we were fraudulently told. Or should I say, _“sold”_?”

“ _Very_ witty, Theodore,” said a familiar voice from behind them, after Emmett and Debbie’s laughter died down. “Using _“sold”_ instead of _“told”_ \- I imagine that’s a reference to my line of work?”

“Bri! How… how long have you been standing there?”

“Fortunately for you, this time,” Brian said, trying to sound casual, “I only just came in, so I missed the unique opportunity of hearing _just_ how much you love me.”

Jennifer turned away again, flames of guilt licking at her conscience. Christ, people really wanted his guts on a platter! Embarrassed on his behalf, she racked her brains for a way to change the conversation. As luck would have it, nothing came to mind. Emmett and Debbie looked another way, and Ted fiddled with his cup.

“Any chance of coffee- or do I have to wait for the jokes to finish?”

 

* * *

 

One thing worth noting about Daphne Chanders was her refusal to give a fuck.

Here, she resembled Brian- minus the Botoxed forehead and multiple sex partners, one would hope. Unlike him, she smiled with ease, but Jennifer hadn’t expected that babysitting Molly might be something Daphne found exciting enough to occupy a whole morning. In fact, Jennifer remembered the same person claiming that children and marriage _“are a burden on the bank account, really… No offence, or anything.”_

“Thanks for doing this,” she said, when Molly went to wash her hands for dinner, “Want to stay and eat? I made more than enough tuna pasta…”

“No thanks, Mrs Taylor,” Daphne replied, applying another coat of lip gloss. “Got to play nice with Romeo and Juliet for a bit, or I’ll have to find a new best friend.”

Jennifer tried not to smile. “Then why the lip-gloss? Are you meeting someone else, as well?”

“Sadly not. I hate being holed up in Ethan’s cardboard box apartment, and violin music hurts my ears. I mean, who the fuck is Vivaldi? What’s harmony? Will the scale of E Flat Minor help me get into medical school?”

“Well--”

“--Maybe this time, if I drink enough red wine whilst the two of them drone on about Lover’s Paradise, I’ll be able to teleport into a parallel universe ruled by sexy men and giant mutant bacteria!”

“I’m sure there are interesting things the three of you can do together.”

Daphne snorted. “You wanna put money on that, Mrs Taylor? I could do with an extra twenty!”

 

* * *

 

“You know, Brian might not have been Mr. Perfect, but at least he wasn’t pretentious.”

Daphne’s previous fire died down. She tapped the tube of lip gloss against her palm and stared out of the living room window. “They weren’t just about sex, believe it or not. They loved CSI, crosswords, Sauvignon Blanc… and shooting zingers at each other all day. Little things like that.”

Jennifer nodded, unsure of what to think. CSI? Crosswords? Witty repartee? Sounded suspiciously like… any couple! Amazing! Which was why she couldn’t get her head round the idea any more than Daphne’s apparent dislike for Ethan. Pretentious? He only wanted to succeed, no more than Daphne herself wanted to enter medical school. Not liking violin music, or not being Brian weren’t adequate excuses, either. No, perhaps Daphne felt righteous indignation on Brian’s behalf given how Justin had left. Even then…

“Well sometimes when we get hurt, the bad overshadows the good,” Jennifer said, shrugging. “It isn’t necessarily spite.”

“Oh no, no… And Brian wasn’t a saint, either. I mean, he didn’t even bother to visit Justin in hospital after the bashing- that was horrendous. Justin used to ask me if I’d seen Brian, and I had to say no, and he’d claim he didn’t care anyway...”

Jennifer clasped her fingers together with a deep breath. The bashing. An ominous red mark on her timeline, a nightmare filled with her son’s bloodied head, doctors in white coats of death, and Daphne’s tears…

And the Night Nurse’s unforgettable words: _“A gentleman who insists on smoking in the ward watches your son every night from seven to four in the morning. He signs in, lights up, paces the corridor and drops the cigarette stubs in the plant pots. Pisses the janitor off. And then he stands by the window. And his eyes, Mrs Taylor: he’s a haunted man.”_

She could have corrected Daphne, regardless of the consequences, and yet… Shouldn’t Brian have told Justin by now, instead of allowing the so-called absence to join a list of steadily growing grievances in their relationship? Just because he thrived on pretending to be cold as ice didn’t mean Justin didn’t deserve to know the truth from his lips.

Or _she_ could tell him.

But, dishonest and culpable as she felt, Jennifer didn’t have the heart. It was much too late now.

“What’s wrong, Mrs Taylor? Is it something I said?”

Jennifer shook her head. “Sorry, I… I just don’t like thinking about--”

“Oh, of course. But still… Brian isn’t The Devil. Justin knew that… then he chose to forget. Set him up to fail, then walked off with his consolation prize. But Brian… hell, he’s still paying Justin’s tuition!”

“Excuse me?!”

Daphne shrugged again, as though the news were just idle gossip. “He’s still paying- apparently he insisted. If that isn’t Brian in a nutshell, I don’t know what is.”

_So that’s why she prefers him to Ethan…_

* * *

 

For someone so famous, finding Brian was easier said than done.

Jennifer searched Babylon- simply by asking around- and Woody’s in the same manner, and even checked the guest lists for the kinkier clubs to no avail. Not wanting to pay another visit to his Loft for fear of discovering him balls deep, she took a chance on a couple of diners outside Liberty Avenue- but, as expected, most were nearly empty. Cursing under her breath, she meandered around the shops, glancing into café windows and restaurants, sure her efforts would be wasted.

However, she found him in a restaurant on Penn Avenue, gazing into a glass of wine as though life had run into a dead end. Despite the background chatter of other diners, the music weaving through their voices and the odd waiter scurrying up and down, he noticed nothing. His fingers remained limp, he didn’t even flinch or glance around. Was he dead? Yes, she decided without hesitation; dead in soul and spirit, yet still he did nothing to change his circumstances.

Did she pity him? Just then, watching him from the doorway, she struggled to see whether he even deserved it for being so… hopeless.

“Good evening, madam- would you like to book a table?”

“Ah yes; I’m here with someone… Um, that man over there? The one with the Armani suit?”

The waiter sighed. “Why are the good ones always taken? But of course, head over and I’ll be round in a minute with the starters.”

Before Jennifer could correct him, he sauntered off to assist another diner who was grappling with an irate toddler. Taking a deep breath, she ignored all reason and logic in her head that screamed at her for lying in public and interrupting someone else’s private time. _You’ve no right to interfere!_ Hesitating, she glanced outside. Lamp posts dotted the avenue in orange and yellow, and the only loiterers wore hoods and held soda cans. _I’ll just ask what I want and then leave before it gets too dark. What’s the worst that could happen? He won’t have much to gain from stabbing me to death, that’s for sure._

 She’d almost reached his table when Brian spoke, without even glancing up.

“To what do I owe this pleasure… Mrs Taylor?”

 _How the fuck...?_ "Hello, Brian."

Sitting up straighter, he nodded: she knew he didn’t trust himself to speak. Brian Kinney always had to know what would happen in advance, and if he didn’t, he stayed as calm as possible. At least until he was alone… God knows what happened then. She’d already caught him unawares- just like Justin- and he’d instantly be on his guard, prepared for any other attack.

“Can I…?” she gestured at the empty seat in front of her.

“Well, seeing as we apparently arranged to meet, who am I to stop you?”

Blushing, she sat down, tried to smile, and then stared at her hands. Like they always said in spy films, getting in was the easy part. Now she’d found him, the rest of her plan didn’t sound concrete any more. Talk to Brian? How did one simply talk to Brian? Was that even possible? What did he say on a day to day basis? She couldn’t picture him lounging against a white picket fence and asking her about the stock market, or even passing her in the street and complimenting... Complimenting what? Precisely. If she couldn’t think of anything innovative to say, then she was back to the drawing board.

“How are you doing?”

“Brilliant. Dazzling.”

Knowing he wanted to say as little as possible, Jennifer took a moment to appreciate the ambiance: beige table cloths, crisp tablecloths and crystals of light caught against the wine glasses. The perfect place to spend a quality evening: good food, good wine, good company. And, come to think of it, interesting clientele. Whilst most people were eating, a couple of diners had paused- fork in mid-air- to ogle Brian, and two waiters nearby kept dripping soup over a table for lack of concentration, captivated as well.

“In your own time, Mrs Taylor,” Brian said, cutting her observations short. “Or next millennium; it’s all the same to me. Would you like a starter? I’d recommend the salmon salad- five star food. So are the men- as you may have noticed…”

Well, she’d be lying if she hadn’t cast the odd appreciative glance here and there. But she also knew he was trying to distract her. “Daphne says you’re still paying my son’s tuition.”

As she expected, a shadow crossed his eyes, and he took a swig of wine. “What… What about it?”

“It’s just… I wasn’t expecting you of all people to… I mean, I couldn’t possibly express my gratitude…”

“Then don’t.” He shrugged again, then leaned back in his chair, looking for a convenient distraction. “It’s just cash.”

She leaned forward. “No, it’s the difference between Justin achieving his dreams, or going to Business School just to please his father. You know that. That’s why you’re paying, isn’t it?”

He refused to answer.

Shaking her head, she studied him for the first time. Dark shadows framed his eyes, and he’d smoked not long ago. Perhaps he’d drunk a few more glasses of wine, too- at home or at Woody’s. Strangely, he still wore a suit, not the skin tight jeans and leather jacket he wore to Babylon. Straight from work, then; how depressing.

“Seriously?”

He didn’t reply. Drumming her fingers against the table, she leaned forward again, annoyed with his reticence. Like it or lump it, she would force something out of him before the night ended.

“You know, I remember the months you spent putting his life back together, and now you’re pretending he doesn’t even exist! Honestly, there’s no shame in being generous: you care! You told me yourself- remember?”

If the waiter hadn’t interrupted with his self-deprecating mutterings and menu, she wondered whether Brian planned on taking an Oath of Silence all night, because he wouldn’t even look at her. She ordered the salmon salad- on recommendation- then turned back to him.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“So you can speak. Tell me what went wrong between you two.”

Just like before, Brian shrunk into his jacket, and pressed his lips together. Later, Jennifer would realize how much her demands hurt, but at that moment, all she thought of was satisfying her curiosity. What was so difficult, for Christ’s Sakes? She couldn’t think of any separated couple who struggled to relive the past like Brian- and she’d heard all kinds of horror stories in that department. Why so defensive?

“He wanted out.” Brian’s voice was soft, accepting. “It’s okay.”

“And you didn’t give him a reason to stay? Even after the whole hustler thing- for which I would have killed you, had I known earlier…”

He snorted, but had the decency to look embarrassed. “Does the Pope know about the hustler yet?”

“Why didn’t you try to keep him? Had you made an effort, he would have stayed. Why didn’t you tell him about your hospital visits?”

“Speak for yourself.”

“I admit I should have told him, but you were his boyfriend! It’s like you didn’t even try to redeem yourself!”

“Why… why do you care? I thought you liked… the Fiddler.”

“Of course I do, Brian! He’s the kind of guy that puts roses on your bedside table and buys wine from the gourmet shop so you can stay in all night and laugh about random things! You never did this. Why not?”

“Because I don’t.”

“You don’t do holidays, either.”

“Not if I’m going to lose my fucking job- which, needless to say, pays for blissful days rollicking in the snow.”

“Did you apologize? Did you take time out and explain to him? Did you arrange to catch up later?”

“He didn’t want to know,” Brian said, his voice barely a whisper.

“Don’t you miss him at all?” she asked, ignoring this. “Don’t you miss your CSI re-runs and crosswords and… arguments?”

Brian shut his eyes a moment, as though fighting against something… Later, Jennifer would call that something pain. “I don’t miss people. Ever.”

“That’s ridiculous. Of course you do. You’re in a restaurant, alone, not even cruising the waiters. You miss him! Hasn’t the thought even crossed your mind?”

“Why the fuck are you asking me all these questions?” Brian was fidgeting like mad, but made eye contact this time. “Did the gang tell you what a heartless shit I am? Well, you’ll be pleased to know I admit to being an utter asshole. And if… Justin wants to shack up with a half ass fiddler because he can’t stand me, then… fuck if I care. We were never in a relationship: he was… he was nothing to me. There. I said it. Now you can join Deb and the rest of fucking Liberty Avenue in plotting my assassination!”

“I…”

But before she could answer, Brian stood up and threw a couple of dollar bills onto the table.

“Enjoy your salad. It’s the best in town.”

Speechless, Jennifer watched him storm out of the Diner, almost knocking over the drooling waiters. The soup bowls weren’t so lucky.

What the hell was wrong with him?

And much later, a tiny voice in her head whispered, _“you crossed a line, Jennifer...”_

But she should have realized that earlier.

* * *

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When writing, I didn't envisage that this story would require more parts, but I realized the original two part plan wasn't working out, so there are two more parts and an epilogue to come. I have already sketched these out, which helped me finish this part.


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